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I once used words to build a girl wings,
Made her an angel who flew on false strings,
I wrote her endless passages of heartfelt emotion,
as I sat and stared out at the endless blue ocean.

But now I feel to much, to find the prose,
to compare your beauty, to that of a rose,
for it's incomparable, to all else I see,
but know that you, are beauty to me.

So though I don't write like I once did of her,
know that it's you, that I prefer.
For the right words don't exist, to say I love you,
but I assure you that, I truly do
its magical,
how black stains,
transform in small galaxies
in our body,
and make everything stop to seem
like an bruise,
in our soul.
how can a black stain,
be so beautiful?
-d.a

— The End —